


I Pick My Poison and It's You

by Damalia (Achrya)



Series: Blackbirds and Firestarters [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dorks in Love, Injury, Language, M/M, Marco is turned on at inappropriate times, Panic Attacks, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco is calm, cool, and steady. Jean is sparks, fury, and passion. If the world was fair Marco would be ice and Jean would be fire but personality has nothing to do with mutant powers. Marco holds his fire too tight and Jean is an icy time bomb that can’t help but go off when things get stressful. They’re both headed nowhere fast if they can’t figure themselves out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Pick My Poison and It's You

**Author's Note:**

> I was, back in the day, a big Iceman/Pyro shipper and in a fit of nostalgia this developed. Basically an X-men meld, in which the 104th and friends are at a school for mutants and there's probably a low key team of superheros who go out and fight more militant mutants and stuff. But I doubt we'll see it in more than passing references to Marco's desire to join said team one day.  
> This story probably won't be as serious as the summary makes it sound.  
> Pairings: Jean/Marco centric, some side MIkasa/Annie and other things will probably roll out.

 

“Bodt!” Shadis shouted. Marco didn’t need to turn to look at the man to know that his eyes were probably wide with fury, the vein in his forehead probably buldging, his face probably red with fury. He’d heard that tone and seen the face to go with it to be able to picture it just fine in his mind. “Break through that shield or else you’ll be working the kitchen tonight.”

Marco huffed out a breath; he’d been on kitchen cleanup after every combat training day since he’d been moved back a class. He was almost used to spending his free time in the large kitchen doing food prep and cleanup.

He wasn’t used to the silently questioning and judgemental stares of the other students as they tried to figure out how Marco Bodt of all people had been kicked back to the ‘beginner’ class.

He swallowed then snuffed out the fire he’d been projecting before reaching inside of him for the flicker of flame he imagined was there. It didn’t actually exist but that was how he pictured his power, a single flame he turned up and down when he needed it, and it worked for him.

It was there, twisting and dancing in his chest just like it had been every day since his mutation had manifested. It was always waiting, willing, and hungry, leaping up when he called on it, eager to be let loose.

He pictured it growing up a little bit. The flames he’d been projecting grew as well; first they crept back from his fingertips to cover his hands; it reminded him of the way his mother would rub her hands over his own when he’d been out in the cold too long to work the warmth back in. It didn’t burn him, couldn’t, and yet his heart never failed to beat a little faster when the flames licked over his skin.

He looked up, focusing on Armin again, and the flames leapt out from his fingertips with a roar. It was hard to explain to people without active projection powers; it wasn’t like holding on to something and throwing it or a matter of imagining the flames doing what he said but more like opening his hand or walking. There was no thought of ‘open’ or ‘move’, just a desire to do so and then action.

The flames twisted together, forming a thick pillar, and crashed into Armin only to break like waves against rocks. Armin’s shield surged back to life, a hazy blue fog that existed a few inches from his body, and once again held against Marco’s flames. Armin’s eyes narrowed in concentration and the shield pressed out out, pushing the flames back.

Marco licked his lips then poured just a little more of himself into it, feed the flames just a little bit more as carefully as he could. He was hyper aware of the fire, felt every shivering movement in his muscles, and held onto it with a white knuckled grip.

The flames pressed back towards him, corralled by Armin’s power.

“More!” Shadis shouted. “Or should you get knocked back another level Bodt? What the fuck do you think you’re going to accomplish in the real world if you’re letting Arlert best you?”

Marco gritted his teeth in anger not just for himself but for Armin as well; the other teen worked harder and longer than just about anyone else at the school. The fire crackled dryly in triumph as it swallowed up the flash of rage.

The fire grew and slammed into Armin’s shield harder. The blue fog flickered, vanished, came back to life a few inches closer to Armin than it had been before. Armin’s eyes widened and then he brought a hand up as if to physically push his power out.

Marco felt it in the fire, a hard shove that made him rock back.

His grip slipped. The fire had curled up as far as his biceps and the flame in his chest grew beyond a mere tiny flicker.

Armin’s shield shimmered again, shifted back, and the smaller teen’s body shuddered. A little more power, a harder push, and he’d not just push Armin back but he’d completely shatter the shield. He could feel it trembling and straining to stay up, could see the sweat on Armin’s forehead and the way his eyes were screwed up from the effort.

He could do it. He knew he could do it.

“I can’t.” He could barely hear his voice over the scream of fire in his ears.

Marco closed his hands tight enough for the nails to cut into his skin. The fire snuffed out as if it had never been before. He exhaled and felt oddly hollow; it was as if he was too big, too stretched out, for what he was.

The flame was once again just a flicker held tightly inside of him.

Armin stumbled forward, suddenly fighting against nothing at all, and went to his knees. Marco was moving across the gym towards him before he’d even realized he was doing it. He saw, from the corner of his eye, Eren being kept on the bleachers by Reiner. Armin was breathing hard, gulping in air as if he’d just finished running a marathon, but he managed to smile up at Marco in spite of that.

“Almost had me that time.”

Armin’s hand was slick with sweat against his own and his skin was flushed and radiating with heat. Marco helped haul him to his feet while flashing his own tired smile back.

“Jaeger, Kirschtein get on the floor.” Shadis barked. “Bodt!”

“Kitchen duty?” Marco couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“My office after class.”

Marco cringed; last time he’d been called into Shadis’ office it was to inform him that he was being moved from the intermediate level to the beginner classes. He’d been at the school for almost five years, moved through Intake to Beginner up to Intermediate more or less on pace and then, suddenly, Shadis had started demanding things Marco just couldn’t do. Then he’d been kicked back.

He’d turned out to not mind it too much; he and Armin had been rooming together for about two years so ending up together for the practical application and combat classes wasn’t a bad thing at all and he had academic classes with a lot of the others so that was fine too.

But at this rate he’d been spending another six months in Intake learning to visualize his power and hearing lectures for Headmaster Pixis about responsible power useage again and he would mind that.

“I don’t know what he wants from me.” Marco said once they’d collapsed onto the bleachers. Armin’s attention was on the floor where Eren was down low, one clawed hand brushing the ground, and circling Jean was was standing very still as a misty cloud rolled around his feet.

The temperature seemed to lower a few degrees; Marco didn’t know if that was just something his brain thought happened when Jean was using his powers, a mental reaction to seeing ice form, or if it was a real thing.

Jean and Eren were one of Shadi’s stranger pairings. Eren was fast, strong, durable, and sported some pretty impressive claws and teeth whereas Jean was, physically at least, perfectly normal. Eren was better suited to go up against Reiner, Annie, or Mikasa while Jean would have worked better with Armin, Bertholdt, or Marco.

But, in the entire four months since Jean had come to the school, they’d never had a powers allowed sparring session. It was something that was, honestly, even stranger than Shadis’ insistence on making Eren and Jean fight. It seemed like a natural clash, fire against ice, but Shadis clearly disagreed.

“He wants you to learn to use your powers.”

Marco twisted around to look up at Annie. She was sitting a few steps above them with Mikasa at her side, so close their thighs were nearly touching. They’d already sparred, a clash of lightning fast movements and superhuman perception against Annie’s crystal form, and now Annie was busying herself with physics homework.

Or had been.

“What are you talking about?” Armin looked back as well. “Marco isn’t weak. He has some of the best control of anyone in the school.”

Annie snorted softly “Who said anything about control?”

Marco shivered; he wasn’t sure if it was because of Annie’s words or Jean’s power.

“Fuck!” Jean’s voice rang out followed by a snarl that could have only come from Eren. Marco sighed; this was another reason he didn’t understand Shadis’ pairing system. Eren and Jean, when they did spar, almost always ended up in the infirmary (which was saying something considering how fast Eren healed from injuries.)

He twisted around, not sure what he expected, then jumped up as Armin cried out in alarm and Shadis bellowed for Jean to stop.

Jean’s teeth were bared in a furious grimace, long gashes across his cheek oozing blood. His hand was pressed against Eren’s shoulder. Ice, gleaming and blue tinted, was spreading out, spider webbing out over Eren’s bare skin.

Eren looked shocked for a moment then pained. He shoved Jean away from him; there was a cracking noise like ice shattering and Jean fell back, taking a chunk of Eren’s flesh, frozen to his hand, with him.

Eren howled.

Mikasa launched herself off of the bleachers and went straight for Eren but, even with her considerable speed, the ice had crept back over and filled the spot with a murky red sheet of ice before continuing it’s path outward, already covering the entire shoulder and part of the arm. Marco couldn’t see anything after that because Mikasa’s body was blocking his view. Armin was scrambling down after her, shield flickering in and out of existence.

Shadis was right behind Mikasa, crowding around Eren, brow furrowed. Marco forced himself to look away and focus on Jean.

Jean was looking down at his hands, still on the floor where he’d fallen, expression blank. Ice was pooling around him, tendriling out in gleaming arcs.

“Stop it!” Mikasa whirled around, eyes gleaming red.

Marco saw Jean’s lips move, forming soundless words.

‘I can’t.’

MIkasa took a step towards him. The ice on the ground jumped up, forming a smooth reflective dome around Jean.

\---

 

Marco sighed at Dr. Hanji for what may have been the twentieth time.

“I’m fine.”

“So you keep saying.” Hanji said as they turned his wrist over again to look over his skin. It was red and raw but otherwise fine. “You’re lucky things weren’t worse.”

“Yeah.” Marco looked over to where Jean was sitting on a cot, legs pulled up so he could wrap his arms around his knees and staring intently at the wall. “Lucky.”

He rubbed at his wrists yet again, trying to banish the echo of the bone deep chill he’d been subjected to less than 30 minutes ago. The ice had already melted and he’d changed out of the damp cloying clothes he’d been wearing but he couldn’t shake the memory of his hands and wrists being rendered useless, first held tight by long chilly fingers and then by layers of shifting ice, or of Jean over top of him and looking at him with wide frantic eyes.

The only part that was lucky was that no one in their class was a telepath and had been able to tell that, in spite of the near painful cold sealing his hands together, Marco had been trying to tramp down on a wave of heat in his gut.

Unsuccessfully. In the moment he’d shifted from being focused on getting Jean to stop what he was doing to being aware of nothing but Jean’s hands on him, of chilly breath fanning over his face, of the strange feeling of being unable to use his hands or call up his fire. LIke a prickle of fear and confusion and a stomach twisting something else that really shouldn’t have been there at all.

Nothing like that had ever happened before. When he wanted the fire to act it always did and yet he’d been trying to use it only to have it bubbling inside of him, unable to escape. He’d only been in the dome for thirty seconds, at the absolute most, but in that time a weird sort of almost desperate pressure had started building inside of him.

It hadn’t been painful, not really. In fact it had been alarmingly familiar but he didn’t want to start exploring why it felt like hanging on the edge of an orgasm. Not until he was safe and sound in his room and could think it all through very carefully on his own.

“What possessed you to try to stop him?” Hanji asked as they swatted his hands away from his wrist. “You know how susceptible you are to the cold.”

He shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”

He’d come running off the bleachers along with the rest of their class when Mikasa had launched herself at the ice dome. Instead of it breaking apart under her fists, fists that he’d seen punch through concrete, the ice had lept out and covered her hands like it was doing to Eren. He’d barely even thought about aiming a jet of flame at the dome after that. He’d felt Bertholdt next to him, no doubt using his telekinesis to help widen the hole Marco had been punching through the ice, and when it had been open enough he’d plunged in without a thought.

In hindsight it had been a bad idea. Reiner or Connie, Jean’s roommate, would have been a better choice. Almost as soon as he’d stopped using his fire to control the ice it had started filling the hole back in, shutting him off from the others.

The ice on the ground had hissed and turned to steam under Marco’s feet, making the path to Jean an easy one. Jean had still been on the ground, empty eyed.

Marco could relate to feeling like you were out of control and were hurting people. Crouching down next to Jean and reaching for him to try and snap him out of what he knew was a suffocating headspace had seemed like a good idea.

When Jean’s icy fingers had latched onto his wrist and the painful bite of ice had started to spread over his skin his reflex had been to bring his other hand up to pry himself loose.

Both had been bad ideas.

He’d fought it off for a moment, fire flaring up, but a hiss of pain from Jean had made him hesitate and then he’d been stuck, hands frozen to Jean’s skin as ice crept over him.

In the end it was Connie who’d ended things. He’d taken the risk of teleporting and ending up inside of of one them (in the horrific ‘no two people can occupy the same space so someone is going to die’ kind of way, not the fun way.) with Reiner. A blow to the back of the head that had made Marco’s head pound in sympathy had sent Jean slumping over and, just like that, all of the ice had begun to melt.

Eren was fine, the damage Jean had done already well on it’s way to being repaired. Mikasa was probably plotting some kind of revenge but was also fine. They were in the other infirmary on the other side of campus so, hopefully, no more incidents would occur.

The gym was water logged.

In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that big a deal. Powers acted up. People sometimes got hurt. Buildings got trashed. People would talk for a while but then someone would get caught invisible in the locker rooms or flying after dark and they would move on. Jean would probably remember it long after everyone else did.

Marco had been there. He understood it.

He rubbed his wrist again then held them out for the bandages Dr. Hanji was brandishing at him like some sort of weapon. They were just finishing up when the door swung open to reveal a thunderous looking Shadis.

“How do they look?”

Hanji blinked owlishly behind their glasses. “Fine? Jean needs to be watched for a concussion but-”

“Great. Discharge them.” Shadis’ eyes fixed first on Marco who shrank back against his pillows then to Jean who just stared back with the same hollow expression he’d been wearing since coming to. “I want you both packed within the hour.”

“What?” Marco asked, shock keeping him from watching his tone. “Are we being kicked out? Jean didn’t even do anything that everyone else hasn't-”

“Bodt.” The dark look in Shadis’ eyes combined with his almost soft tone made Marco shut his mouth and start contemplating escape routes. Jean was looking at him with shocked round eyes but Marco barely noticed.

Was this how he died? Killed for opening his mouth when he shouldn’t have? What would his parents say?

‘But we raised him to be respectful of his elders! How could this have happened?’

“You’re moving down to the lake house. Restriction until you-” A finger jabbed in Jean’s direction. “Learn not to lose your shit every time you get frazzled and you-” This time the finger was pointed at Marco. “Get your shit together."

Marco made a noise that, to his own ears, sounded a lot like a duck dying. Got his shit together? Wasn't it already together? What the hell was going on?

"You’re top of all of your classes, one of the best in hand to hand we have, and you’ve been here for longer than almost anyone but you choked when Kirschtein was throwing his hissy fit. You talk big about wanting to help other mutants, about getting out there and doing something, but you shut down if you have to do more than make fire kittens for the kids.”

Marco opened his mouth then shut it, unable to say anything at all. It didn’t matter because Shadis wasn’t done yet.

“No one cares how powerful you could be or how good your intentions are Bodt. They care about what you can do and right now you can’t do shit because you’re jumping at your own shadow. Fix it or get out.”

And then he was gone, leaving a oppressive silence in his wake. Even Hanji, usually impossible to get to stop talking, looked stunned.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And now: Powers with Raya (I've put a lot of thought into this stuff okay.)
> 
> Marco: Energy absorption (His body 'prefers' solar radiation, in that it takes that in naturally and without effort, but he can make other stuff work in a pinch, but it doesn't work as well and makes him feel 'gross'.) and energy conversion into fire. Or just good old fashioned pyrokensis if you prefer. His body is always working to bring in more energy, which can be a problem if it isn't occasionally expended, and is why he's so careful about how he uses his power; the actual amount of energy he might be storing is unknown so he prefers to just not tempt fate with blow ups.  
> Could maybe control external sources of fire but has never tried.  
> Eats an actual ton of food. Being a human battery is hungry work for some reason.


End file.
